Where do I start? What do I say?
Fifty years is a long time,
It’s a way of life, it’s a time of day.
It is a romance carried through a continuum of love,
It is the sand under your feet,
It feels like the stars above.
It comes and goes through threads and chains,
Sometimes it holds, sometimes it stretches,
You know the peaks, you feel the wanes.
I think I know where to start, I think I know what to say,
Fifty years is a long time,
It’s a way of life, it’s a time of day.
Your way is and always will be
The decisions you make together,
It’s the bond you’ve forged at a quarter to three.
Time never was of consequence for the two of you,
Schedules were for tossing about,
Night was when the creative juices set to brew.
Take the writing, the drawing, the reading, the planning,
Take the thinking and loving and traveling,
See the flow of water this bridge has been spanning.
I think I’ve started, I think I know what to say,
Fifty years is a long time,
It’s a way of life, it’s a time of day.
Your days and nights have been combined
As patriots and Anglophiles,
With a love of two countries so fierce and so defined.
Seems hard to imagine you drove about in a big green car,
With daughter and duty,
Ahh, the trappings of a teenager with friends flung afar.
“Go explore the world,” you said to me,
Find ways to live and love and be an adult,
Tell us you lived and loved with a vengeance, see?
Follow our lead, we love holidays and friends,
Never let someone wander around,
On Christmas without a place to sit or time to spend.
As it turns out, I do know what to say,
Fifty years is a long time,
It is a way of life, it is a time of day.
It’s the note from Santa Claus,
It’s Cimarroncita,
It’s Castle Combe,
It’s graduation,
It’s marriage,
It’s childbirth,
It’s the many Potter black dogs,
It’s the fine wines,
It’s the greasy spoons,
It’s complete and unadulterated love,
It’s complete misunderstandings,
It’s always coming back to the truth of family.
It’s a way of life, it’s a time of day.
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